The Things We Lost
by ztarose23
Summary: Three years into the end of the world, Kaci has built herself a solitary life out in the hills surrounded by forests. When a certain abrasive survivor shows up on her doorstep, will the two of them be able to let down their guard and fix what is left of their humanity together? Daryl/OC, Season 4/5


_Disclaimer: I own no character but my own. Also, this is going to be slightly AU around season 4/5. Enjoy and feel free to give feedback!_

When I was ten, we had a cat that we named Gus. He was a nice cat for the most part, nothing remarkable, just fat and lazy and sometimes sweet. We had him for as long as I can remember and then one day, he was gone. This was how quickly the end of the world came upon us.

These were the sort of thoughts that I had as I loped through the forests that surrounded my home, searching for my next meal or to kill walkers that had found themselves wandering amongst the trees, looking for their next hot dinner. My biggest mission was to get to them before they got to my deer because those fuckers were slowly but surely killing all of my game.

I heard a branch crack and turned slowly to see what it was. I knew for sure it wasn't a walker. Those things weren't quiet at all, dragging their feet and moaning all over the goddamn place. I came face to face with a small fawn and immediately the feeling of confusion came over me, followed quickly by terror as the fawn bolted. I sighed but continued on my way, knowing that someday that deer would die—by my hand or a walker's.

I checked my various traps as the sun beat down, causing sweat to drip down my face and between my shoulder blades. Today was a good day for trapping. I had three raccoons, a coyote and two walkers. I found walkers in my traps all the time, sometimes gnawing on whatever had been caught, sometimes just stupid enough to get themselves caught. I killed the walkers and the animals quickly, straight through the skull, clean and humane. I stuffed the varmints into my pack and gutted the coyote so it would be easier to carry and made my way back to my homestead.

It was my guess that most people nowadays didn't have much of a home. I had seen (and fought off) easily a hundred different people looking for shelter and something to eat. I was one of the luckier ones. My parent's house was nestled far back into the woods with rolling hills on all sides. It wasn't an easy place to get to and it was off the beaten path. My daddy, who was a military man while he was still alive, had always been sort of expecting the day when the world was going to end. I just don't think that he had planned on ending with it. He stockpiled weapons and food and generators and water. The big farm style house that we lived in had two cellars, one hidden that only the people in the house knew of and one that wasn't too hard to find. Our barn also had a hollowed out spot where he kept all the real important stuff like money and extra guns like his old sniper rifle. I kept mind right next to his. I think he would've liked that.

I tried as hard as I could to make our house look unwelcome, but after three years of this madness, people didn't really care what the fuck they stayed in as long as it was walker free. I was so paranoid about leaving for a hunt one day and coming back to have my place overrun with people that I started taking to hiding my supplies all over the forest so that if I needed to pick up and run I could. I loved that house but I was well aware that there would likely be a day where I simply couldn't defend her anymore.

My house was five miles away from where I was and at a steady jog with a forty pound coyote on my back, it took what felt like forever to get back. As I jogged along, I looked over to see my dog Beau. I whistled at her and she fell right into pace with me, always right on my heels. Beau was with me everywhere. I had gotten her about a year before the world went to shit and I trained her like an army dog. She was supposed to go with me to Afghanistan when I went over, but once the virus hit and everyone started geeking out, well, no one really cared about that war anymore.

You see, I have this weird connection with the things around me. I can sense emotion in animals and in humans. I wouldn't really call it a supernatural thing, but it's something alright. Because of our connection, Beau is my lifeline, my eyes and ears all around me. If there's something that I don't see coming, she's the one who has my back. I'm a lucky girl to have her.

After getting back home, I set my game down and did a quick run through of my property to make sure I didn't have any unwelcome guests while I was gone. Thankfully, everything was cleared and I was able to make my way unhurried to start preparing my dinner. I started hunting with my dad when I was pretty young and had a knack for it. The way I could shoot combined with the way I connected with animals and nature in general, my dad started to call me Diana, goddess of the hunt. I always loved the name and sometimes, in the midst of a breakdown, I would have to remind myself of who I really was and what I really came from.

_Your name is Kaci Black, daughter of Rachel and John Black. You are twenty-four, you were training as a sniper for the army. Your best friends were…were…_

That was the thing about the apocalypse. Once you were isolated without anyone else to talk to besides a dog who couldn't talk back, your found yourself quickly forgetting details that were once huge to you, details you didn't ever think you could forget. I still thanked god every time I looked at the date on my big calendar. It was one of those thirty year calendars and I looked at it every day, marking it off with a big red pen that saw no other use than that. It was one of the first things I had stolen and I felt bad about it for a while, my civilian instincts still ingrained in me. These instincts were long gone and sometimes I wasn't really sure how I felt about that. It didn't mean a thing to me to stroll into someone's old house and raid their closets and cupboards, looking for anything and everything that would help me. This was the new world. I couldn't be worried about anyone but me and Beau.

For me, the night time was always the worst, after I ate my kill of the day and boarded up the house and went back into my bedroom that my reality would hit. I swore I always heard the groan of the dead or something right around the corner. I couldn't remember what it felt to be really and truly relaxed. I was always waiting for that one thing to jump out and finish me off for good. I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing. I had survived a pretty long time, had a good run. I just wanted to see it all get better. That's what I craved the most, even when I was starving or almost mad with thirst, what I wanted more than anything was for there to be something out there that had an explanation to all of this madness. Unfortunately, after three years, I was beginning to lose hope.

Part of my ritual every night (it's very important to have a ritual) I stood in front of my full length mirror to asses damages for the day. Today I had a long scrape along my left forearm, probably from scraping a branch and my ankle was a little swollen. I looked at how tan I was, although I wasn't always sure how much of it was tan and how much was dirt. It was always impossible to tell until I washed off for the night. That was my next part. I would strip down and grab the bucket of cold water from the well out back and wash myself down, trying to scrape off the day's grime. It was important to try and stay as clean as possible because when you have a bunch of open wounds, you run a higher risk of infection when you are dirty. I didn't really mind being dirty. I had wound my dark blond hair into dread locks over two years ago, so they were a little easier to maintain. They were long when I let them down, half way down my back, but they were almost always tied back out of my face. Someday I would get tired of them and chop them off but I hadn't gotten to that point yet. I still liked them.

I would also take this time to look at my body. I was once what my mother called shapely and what the bitches in school would call fat but now I was neither. I was much thinner, a little gaunt, but fit and agile. I was toned in my arms and legs and there was obvious power that rippled in the muscles under my skin. I was in the best shape of my life. Too bad there was only me to appreciate it.

As I laid down to sleep with Beau at my feet, I nodded off with the knowledge that I would not know what was going to happen when tomorrow came. Maybe I would do my chores and the day would pass smoothly. Maybe a horde would come through and I would have to hide for a while. I was ready for all of these things.

What I wasn't ready for was a dark haired man with a crossbow walking up to my house and turning flipping my carefully constructed world upside down.


End file.
